


The Wonders of Group Chat

by RumblingJazz (neoculture_dorkology)



Series: Boredom is Dangerous [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angry Ratchet, Autobots discover group chat, Group chat, Jazz is a troublemaker, Jazz/Soundwave is implied at one point, M/M, Megatron is Shooketh, Never trust Jazz, Poor Ironhide, Poor Optimus, chatfic, nevermind Jazz/Soundwave HAPPENS at one point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-03-15 01:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13603029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neoculture_dorkology/pseuds/RumblingJazz
Summary: Through the help of a very bored Jazz, some of the Autobots discover group chats - and why they should avoid them.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Another badly written Transformers fanfic. This one will contain suggestive language and content, as well as more than one wrench being thrown at innocent robots who had nothing to do with anything. I don't know why I decided to write a group chat fic (Transformers don't even have phones) but let's assume there's a messaging feature on datapads and Jazz figures out how to group chat.
> 
> Once again, I fail at writing Jazz's accent and am very sorry for that ;_;

"Ah have a little somethin' Ah want ta experiment with," Jazz announced. He distributed a stack of datapads between the gathered cluster of Autobots. "Turn 'em on an' when ya see the request, accept."

"Does this have a purpose, Jazz?" Optimus inquired, one of his servos hovering over a datapad. 

"Sure does, Prime." Jazz grinned. "Ah wanna see if we can rely on datapads for communication if our commlinks are down." 

"And how would we do that?" Ratchet inquired crossly. "I have work to do banging dents out of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. They really don't know when to quit." 

"Ah tried to tell 'em not to practice Jet Judo on Aerialbots, Ratch, but they don't listen ta me," Jazz said. "They can suffer a bit longer." The saboteur turned on his own datapad and went to work. "Remember, accept th' request." 

"The one askin' to connect devices?" Ironhide asked. 

"That's th' one," Jazz replied merrily. He continued tapping away at the screen of his datapad until he seemed satisfied. "There we go. Keep these datapads on your person at all times while the experiment is ongoin'. We'll see if this works." 


	2. Irritating Ratchet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz takes the first step to teaching the other 'bots how to group chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried ;;  
> (shoot me at will)   
> (I deserve it)

**The Jazzman:**  Does anyone see this message? 

 **Optimus Prime:** Affirmative, Jazz. 

 **The Jazzman:** That's great! 

 **Ratchet:** I see it, 'Jazzman'. 

 **The Jazzman:** Again, that's great! What about 'Hide and Prowler? 

 **Prowl:** Please desist, Jazz. 

 **The Jazzman:** Well, he sees something, or he wouldn't have said that. 

 **Ratchet:** That much is obvious. 

 **Ratchet:** Just... don't make him crash, Jazz. I'm having a Pit of a time already, juggling this datapad, a wrench, and Sideswipe's left arm. 

 **The Jazzman:** I don't even want to know, Ratchet. 

 **Ironhide:** I see it, Jazz.

 **The Jazzman:** You're a little late to the party, but it's only getting started, so come on in, 'Hide :) 

 **Ratchet:** I will never pretend to understand Jazz or the things that come out of his vocalizer. 

 **The Jazzman:** I didn't say it, Ratch, I typed it. 

 **Optimus Prime:** Is there a point to this, Jazz? 

 **The Jazzman:** This is called the first test: ensuring everyone gets the message and receives notifs for it. 

 **Prowl:** Notifs?

 **The Jazzman:**...Notifications, Prowler. 

* * *

Jazz tapped his fingers against his chin. Perched on Soundwave's berth, he was attempting to form a new plan of action for teaching his fellow Autobots how to use the group chat system. 

"Jazz: Distracted," Soundwave noted. 

"Sorry, 'Wave, just thinkin' 'bout that little project o' mine." Jazz leaned back to stretch out beside the Deceipticon third-in-command. "Hard ta teach some old dogs new tricks." 

"Query: Jazz is teaching dogs?" Soundwave asked. There was a tiny sparkle in his visor, and Jazz had to laugh. 

"More like Soundwave is tryin' ta make a joke an' it turned out terrible," he shot back. "Nah, mech, ya know who Ah'm teachin'. Ya just can't stay outta my processor, can ya?" 

"Jazz: Enigmatic. Hard to read." 

"Ah almost feel like that was supposed ta be a compliment." 

"Assumption: Correct." Soundwave pulled the Autobot closer, and closed the gap between them. 

* * *

 **The Jazzman:** hellooooooo

 **The Jazzman:** anyone out there? 

 **Ratchet:** Please, write properly, Jazz. For Primus' sakes, you type like a youngling.

 **The Jazzman:** only 4 u 

 **Ironhide:** Now look what you've done, Ratchet, he's typing even worse.

 **The Jazzman:** I'll be a good boy, I promise. ;) 

 **Ratchet:** Now look what you've done, Ironhide, he's using the semi-colon parentheses thing. 

 **The Jazzman:** it's a winking smiley face, ratch

 **Ratchet:** You have been hanging out with too many humans. 

 **The Jazzman:** mmm nah, i picked that one up from rumble and frenzy 

 **Ratchet:** I get the feeling you shouldn't have admitted that. 

 **Ironhide:** Be glad Cliffjumper and Red Alert don't have access to this damn chat thing, or they'd be clambering over themselves to try and get you in the brig, you filthy traitor you. 

 **The Jazzman:** I know. :) 

 **Ratchet:** Why does he type properly when he addresses you, and not anyone else?

 **Prowl:** I suspect that Jazz is seeking to irritate you, Ratchet. I also suspect that he may be succeeding. 

 **The Jazzman:** you always were a smart one, prowler ;) 

 


	3. Baby Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One word: Bluestreak.

**The Jazzman:** So today we're going to try something new!

 **Ratchet:** Oh, joy. 

 **The Jazzman:** we're going to test the range of the messaging system :) 

 **Prowl:** How do you propose we do this, Jazz? 

 **The Jazzman:** it's easy! meet me in front of the base in ten. 

 **Optimus Prime:** I'm indisposed at this time, Jazz. Could you find a replacement for me? 

 **The Jazzman:** Sure thing, Prime! I need eight Autobots anyway. I'll just go round up four others and four datapads!

**The Jazzman has disconnected from the chatroom.**

**Ratchet:** Optimus, you certainly don't think these things are a viable alternative to comm units, do you? 

 **Optimus Prime:** Ratchet, I suspect Jazz is merely bored, and the last thing we want on our hands is a bored Jazz. He seems rather... content to occupy himself with this 'chatroom', and I will not be the one to take his new toy away from him. Better he pester us with random messages, than he terrorize the other Autobots. 

 **Ratchet:**...You may have a point. Well, this causes less work for me than the alternative. I'll play along with his little scheme. 

 **Ironhide:** Of course he has a point. He's Prime. 

 **Ratchet:** I'd noticed, Ironhide. 

**Sidestreaker has connected to the chatroom.**

**Sunswipe has connected to the chatroom.**

**The Jazzman has connected to the chatroom.**

**Ratchet:** You brought the twins. 

**Wheeljack has connected to the chatroom.**

**Baby Blue has connected to the chatroom.**

**The Jazzman:** I have conjured our strike force :D 

 **Ironhide:** Strike force? I like the sound of this 

 **Ratchet:** YOU SAID NOTHING ABOUT A STRIKE FORCE, JAZZ

 **Sunswipe:** I get the feeling we aren't welcome here, sunny 

 **Sidestreaker:** Don't call me that. 

 **The Jazzman:** All of you, calm down! It was a joke, Ratch. Nah, we aren't striking anything and it's not a strike force. We're just going to go outside and walk in eight different directions and see how far we can get without losing communication with one another through the chatroom. 

 **Wheeljack:** Hopefully this won't take too long. I've got a project to get back to. 

 **Ratchet:** With Wheeljack joining us, I don't doubt that the datapads will explode. Don't let him tinker with them. 

 **Wheeljack** **:** That's just mean, Ratchet. The dinobots didn't explode. 

 **Ratchet:** You had my help building them, Wheeljack. Of course they didn't explode. Everything else, however... 

 **The Jazzman:** easy ratch, he won't be tinkering with any datapads. 

 **Ratchet:** Good, you're smarter than you act. I won't have to bring the wrench out. 

 **The Jazzman:** just... leave the wrench inside and come to the front of the ark, okay ratch? 

* * *

"Th' goal is just ta walk as far as ya can without losin' contact with th' rest of us," Jazz explained. "If we end up gettin' too far out, Ah'll send a message ta turn us all around an' bring us back ta the Ark. Any questions?" 

There were none, unless Ratchet's rhetorical grumbles about Jazz being insane counted. The medic wasn't protesting as much as he could have, which probably meant he had something up his arm plating, but Jazz would work that out later. In the meantime, he had more plotting to do. 

* * *

**Baby Blue:** How is this supposed to work? Do we just type and send? Do we get notifications when others get the messages? Ohh, can we change our screen names? Why are our screen names what they are? And why are we doing this, anyway? It seems fun, but it also seems like it could get tiring. Do fingers get tired? My finger has never gotten tired on sniper duty. But maybe my fingers could get tired from this? Do you think that's possible? 

 **Ratchet:** Primus, he even types like that.

 **The Jazzman:** It's a little experiment, Blue. As for the screen names, each of them reflects the name you entered on your datapad. You chose Baby Blue, I chose The Jazzman, so on so forth. 

 **Baby Blue:** Oh. Well, that makes sense, I guess! So the twins chose to be Sidestreaker and Sunswipe? Wow, that's confusing. Couldn't they just call themselves Sunny and Sides or something? I don't really understand why they mixed their names together like humans do online. Why do humans mix names together online, does anyone know? I've always wondered about that. Well, maybe not always, but ever since I discovered they did it I've been wondering about it. 

 **The Jazzman:** If you're referring to what I think you are, Blue, the humans refer to this as a 'ship'.

 **Baby Blue:** A ship? Like the Ark? Or another kind of ship? Like a boat on the ocean? Or do they mean something else? They could mean something else. The humans do use words in odd manners at times. For instance, lemons and limes, which I've seen used to tag a written work about two humans interfacing. Why do humans write about interfacing, anyway? I mean, it doesn't make sense. Why would you write about it when you can just grab a friend and interface? No, wait, Earth doesn't work like that. Humans are so weird about interfacing!

 **Ironhide:** Primus help us all, Jazz, you had to give the kid a datapad and a chatroom. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry XD


	4. Behind You, Blue!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two Praxians take a trip to California.  
> No, that's not a joke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, Bluestreak.

**Sidestreaker:** is there a reason we can't just transform and drive until communications stop? 

 **The Jazzman:** of course there is. 

 **Sunswipe:** ok then, whats the reason?

 **Ratchet:** Just when I thought Jazz's typing was bad. 

 **The Jazzman:** if you're in your alt mode, how do you propose you will continue the conversation through the datapad? 

 **Sunswipe:**....

 **Sunswipe:** yknow i didnt think of that

 **Sidestreaker:** you don't think, Sideswipe. that's my job. 

 **The Jazzman:** don't argue you two, i didn't create this chat so you could argue with one another. 

 **Baby Blue:** Eek, I knew it! 

 **Ratchet:** Knew what, Bluestreak? 

 **Baby Blue:** My thumbs are getting sore from typing! Huh, is anyone else getting sore thumbs? Is it just me? Why would it just be me? Oh, I think I just crossed the state border! No, that's a county border. Is that a county border sign or a state border sign? Uhm, Jazz, I think I may be lost. Don't worry! I'm perfectly fine though! I can probably find someone who can point me back to the Ark, unless the Deceipticons get to me first. That would be bad. I have no idea where I am ;-; 

 **The Jazzman:**....

 **Prowl:** I will retrieve Bluestreak. Perhaps it would be best if we return to the Ark at this time, Jazz. 

 **The Jazzman:** You're probably right, Prowler. You heard him, back to the Ark you go. I'll go with ya, Prowl. 

 **Prowl:** That would be unnecessary, Jazz. I can handle it. 

 **Baby Blue:** I really don't need to be retrieved. I'm completely and totally fine! See? Oh, well, no, you can't see because you're in another county or.. state... or... something! Hopefully not another country. Could I have crossed the country already? I wasn't walking that fast. I'm so lost ;-; on second thought, I probably do need to be retrieved. Before thsfndkl 

 **The Jazzman:**...Blue? 

 **Baby Blue:** I'm fine! I dropped my datapad, haha, clumsy me. Er, is Prowl on his way yet? I don't like being lost. It's giving me a bad feeling. Like that feeling you get before your doorwings get tangled in something. You know that feeling, right? Terrible feeling! But I'm sure I'll be fine, I mean, it's not like any Deceipticons know I'm wandering about without my rifle. 

 **The Jazzman:** yes Blue, Prowl's on his way. 

 **Ironhide:** WITHOUT YOUR RIFLE? 

 **Baby Blue:** I was off duty, set it down and then Jazz dragged me into this! I completely forgot to grab it before we left. Haha? Well at least I didn't encounter any 'cons! That would have been bad. But it didn't happen, so all is well. Hey, should I try to find my way back to base? I don't want to cause Prowl too much trouble. 

 **Ratchet:** You should stay where you are, so he doesn't have to search six states for you, Bluestreak. 

 **Sunswipe:** look out behind you blue! its megatron!

 **Ironhide:** Sideswipe! 

 **The Jazzman:** Sunstreaker!

 **Ratchet:** I will disassemble you and reformat you into toasters, so help me Primus!

* * *

"--when I finally caught up to him, he was all the way in _California_." 

Under other circumstances, Jazz might have laughed at the sight of Prowl and Smokescreen hovering around Bluestreak like unhappy mother hens, but as it happened, he was also worried about Bluestreak, and doing the same kind of hovering. After Sideswipe had scared Bluestreak enough to send the sniper transforming and speeding across the United States, Prowl had commed to tell them he was tracking him. Additional search parties were sent out, but it was Prowl who had managed to catch him and bring him back to base. 

Ironhide and Jazz were the ones who threw the twins, sporting a few new dents, in the brig. 

 _"'e was already_ scared _,"_ Jazz had snapped when the twins had tried to defend their -er, 'Sideswipe's'- actions.  _"Ya made it worse."_

As it was, it had taken a lot to calm Bluestreak down and keep him from giving the twins a few more dents after his initial fears were eased. The sniper was usually a cheerful, loving Autobot, but even he had his limits. The twins had effectively crossed them. 

No one did anything to stop Smokescreen, though. 

"Sorry," Bluestreak mumbled. "I kind of freaked." 

"Ah already told ya, baby Blue, ain't nothin' ta be sorry for. It's th' twins who need t' apologize." Jazz stroked the back of Bluestreak's helm, ever attentive. He knew how to calm him down, his field projecting  _love/safety/comfort_ over the young Praxian. 

"I believe, Jazz, it would be in our best interests to create rules of conduct for the chatroom," Prowl stated, holding up a datapad. "As it is, the twins will wreak havoc with it, if strict guidelines are not put in place. 

Jazz's visor lit - Prowl was willing to work with him to better the chat! "Definitely," he agreed, a wide grin spreading over his face. "Wanna help, baby Blue?" 

"Maybe there could be a blocking system. You know, where you can block a user who's posts you don't want to see? That way if anyone messed with me like that again, when it was all said and done I could block them so I wouldn't have to put up with it anymore. And maybe, a reporting system where posts that break the guidelines can be reported? I've seen features like this on human sites," Bluestreak babbled. He started out shyly, but quickly warmed up to the topic. "That would require chat moderators, though. Finding those might be difficult, well maybe not. The command staff are already pretty much the dev team..." 

And just like that, the twins were forgotten as the two Praxians and the mastermind behind the chat discussed guidelines and ways to improve the system. 


	5. Terms of Service

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Terms of Service are published.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter sucks, sorry   
> ;_;

** Terms of Service **

Purposefully kept simple for individuals like Sideswipe.

**Section A**

  1. No derogatory remarks will be tolerated, except when made in jest. 
  2. Pranking, with negative effects on the recipient, may result in a ban. 
  3. Deceipticons are strictly forbidden. Any found within the chat will be forcibly removed. 
  4. Assuming the identity of another individual will not be tolerated and will result in a temporary ban. Depending on the severity of the offense, the ban may be permanent. 
  5. Message spam is prohibited.



**Section B**

  1. Using NSFW screen-names is prohibited. One offense will result in a name change by an administrator. A second offense will result in a ban. 
  2. Mature content must be kept to chat rooms marked as mature. 
  3. Propositioning through the chat rooms is forbidden. 



* * *

"I'm supposed to read through all of this?!" 

Jazz snorted. "Would we have written it if ya weren't, Sunstreaker?" 

"There are _twelve_ sections!" the golden twin snapped. "This is ridiculous!" 

"If I have to read through it, so do you," growled Ratchet. He clenched a datapad in one hand and a cube of energon in the other, his scowl deepening the more the twins complained about the rules displayed on the screens of their own datapads. "So hush and read." 

Blissful silence swallowed the room, as optics dropped to datapads and all of those involved in the testing of the chat busied themselves with reading the terms of service that had been created by Jazz, Bluestreak, and Prowl. 

Jazz was smiling to himself, the expression hidden behind a datapad of his own. 

* * *

 **The Jazzman:** Okay, today we're going to go over screen names 

 **Sidestreaker:** That's what shows up on the side of the screen, right? 

 **Prowl:** Yes. 

 **Ironhide:** When did you become all-knowing about this slag, Prowl? 

 **Prowl:** I educated myself on the operation and function of the chat before Bluestreak, Jazz, and I worked on the Terms of Service and other improvements. 

 **The Jazzman:** He had help, from me of course. 

 **Optimus Prime:** Those improvements would be...? 

 **The Jazzman:** Edits to the coding of the chat, adding functions and editing others. 

 **Prowl:** Such as the moderation function, which will be given to the officers once Jazz and I finish working out the kinks. 

 **Sunswipe:** that might take u a while, jazz is king of kinks 

 **The Jazzman:** ;) ;) ;) 

 **The Jazzman:** does that count as mature content? 

 **Ironhide:** Pit if I know, you're the one who's running this damn thing, Jazz. 

 **The Jazzman:** Prowler's helping. 

 **Prowl:** How many times do I have to ask you not to call me that, Jazz? 

 **The Jazzman:** ;)))))

 **Ratchet:** Ahem

 **Ratchet:** Can we get on to the core of the deal, Jazz? 

 **The Jazzman:** o course, ratch, just gimme a sec

 **The Jazzman:** Okay so! Screen names are what display for a certain individual. Mine's The Jazzman, Prowler's is Prowl, Bluestreak's is Baby Blue. Now, to change your screen name, tap it and hit the tool sign on the right hand side of the little deal that pops up. Then type what you want to change it to. 

_**The Jazzman has changed The Jazzman to Jazz** _

**Jazz:** tadah, it's changed!

_**Jazz has changed Jazz to The Jazzman** _

**The Jazzman:** Now, an important thing to note, is that moderators have the ability to change a regular user's screen name. 

 **The Jazzman:** This was mentioned in the ToS, section b rule 1. 'Using NSFW screen-names is prohibited. One offense will result in a name change by an administrator. A second offense will result in a ban.'

 **Prowl:** Moderators will, theoretically, only do this if a screen-name breaks that rule. 

 **Sunswipe:**... 

 **Ironhide:** Don't even think about it, punk. 

 **Sunswipe:** :( 


	6. Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Deceipticons get page time. What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sorry.   
> Except, I am sorry. Because it's so short.

"The Autobots have developed a communication system that works between datapads?" Megatron repeated, leaning forward. "Explain." 

"The saboteur is responsible. They send messages from one datapad and it displays on all of them," Thundercracker dutifully stated. "If I hadn't been flying over Wheeljack when I was, I never would have noticed." 

Megatron stroked his chin. "Soundwave!"

"Yes, Lord Megatron?"

"We will have to take advantage of this communication system. Get to work creating one of our own. Let's see if we can't fight fire with fire. I am sure the Autobots intend to use this system against us." The tyrant leaned back in his seat, linking his fingers together. "We will use their own communication against them." 

"Affirmative. Soundwave: Working." 

"This is a foolish idea, Megatron! For all we know, this is merely how they discuss the weather. You are clearly unfit to lead the Deceipticons!" 

Megatron exhaled.  _Count to ten, don't shoot Starscream. He's an idiot, but a valuable idiot._ "Starscream, if you would like to keep your vocalizer, I suggest you silence it." 

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposted to my fanfiction.net account, Jazz likes it Loud.


End file.
